Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Beckett
As soon as we enter the house, we both head for the kitchen and reach for the same water pitcher. The one Daisy refills daily and garnishes with slices of lemon.
With a sigh, she backs up, grabs two glasses and plunks them down on the island. I fill them to the brim and return the pitcher to the refrigerator.
“I might have overreacted,” she says, clamping her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know that you would have called that kiss a mistake.”
I guzzle the water and set the glass on the counter. “I wouldn’t have.”
“Really.” Her gaze flits over my face. “And what would you have called it?”
I lean against the refrigerator and cross my arms and ankles, regarding her for a moment. “A big mistake. Fucking huge. Cataclysmic.”
She plucks a lemon slice out of the water and rips the fruit off the rind with her teeth. “Tell me something real. Something honest.”
“Zelda is a quack. Elvis regrets to inform you that he won’t be available to perform your nuptials because he’s currently six feet under where he shall remain for all eternity. And Daisy planted her feet on my dash just to piss me off on the drive home.”
“Tell me something honest and I’ll have your car detailed,” she volleys.
Time for a truth bomb, I guess. The cherry on top of the festival sundae.
“Here’s something honest for you. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you at the airport. Before I knew who you were, when you were just a random girl coming down the escalator. Then you showed up at the baggage claim and I was pissed that it was you and not just some random girl I thought about kissing.”
And that’s the damn truth. I saw her first. In her baggy jeans and her oversized hoodie. But I didn’t even notice what she was wearing. In a sea of people, all I saw was her face.
“You wouldn’t have acted on it though. You would have just stored it in your little dream castle.” She hops onto the counter across from me and leans back on her hands. “You’ve probably never kissed a random girl in your life.”
“The only girls I ever kiss are random girls.”
She thinks about that for a moment, and I know she’ll put two and two together.
If you were just some random girl and we had no history, no ties that bind, no tangled emotions, we wouldn’t be in this boat.
It would be simple. Easy. We’d both take what we want—in my case, I would fuck her into oblivion—and there would be no unrealistic expectations or hurt feelings when we went our separate ways.
But we’re not those people. We came into this with a shitload of baggage, and we know each other in ways I’ve never known anyone.
Even without sex, we’ve already reached a level of intimacy I’m not accustomed to.
So I’m not sure how to navigate this uncharted territory and to take what I want while ensuring we both come out unscathed.
I’m not even sure it’s possible.
She gives me a little smile. “What a sad little life you’ve led before I came along to rescue you from the pits of despair.”
I huff out a laugh. “I’m not looking to be rescued. This is the life I choose.”
“So you’re saying that it’s not because you don’t want me —” She runs the toe of her boot up my thigh, coming dangerously close to my balls, and I wouldn’t put it past her to smash her foot into them. But I stay where I am, on the alert, ready to grab her ankle and yank her off the counter to protect myself if need be. “But because you think sex will overcomplicate everything.”
“Right. And we still have another five weeks to go,” I point out.
“Five whole weeks.” Her hand goes to her heart. “Whatever will you do? You have commitment issues, don’t you? Luckily, I have the perfect solution.” She nudges my balls, just a soft prod.
A warning. A promise. Destruction is imminent.
My hand wraps around her ankle to prevent her from crushing my balls under the sole of her boot and I hold it captive.
She smiles. “Pretend I’m just some random girl you’ve never met.”
I push her foot away. “That’s like trying to put the genie back in the bottle.”
Daisy hops off the counter and sashays over to the turntable where she chooses a vinyl and guides the needle to Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You.”
The song sounds like Daisy. Reminds me of her and the photos plastered to her wall. Dreamlike and rose-tinted.
But I’m not sure what message she’s trying to convey with this song. I can’t imagine Daisy ever being eclipsed by another person or fading into them. She burns too bright.
She returns to her spot on the counter and I’m still where she left me, leaning against the refrigerator. Watching. Waiting.
“You were my first crush. Did you know that?”
I did. Caiden and Ledger used to tease me about it. But she was just a little kid, so it was completely innocent and harmless.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” she says. “You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you.”
I tsk. “Watch that dirty mouth.”
Her tongue glides over her lips. “You love this dirty mouth. It’s your favorite part of my anatomy.”
“I’m sure the other two holes would be equally enjoyable.”
“Only two out of three are open for business,” she quips.
I shrug. “Nobody’s perfect.”
She laughs then sobers as we stare at each other hungrily.
I want to touch her. Taste her. Fuck her so hard she’ll scream my name for all of Sutton Ridge to hear.
“If we do this, it’s consensual, yes?”
Daisy nods then takes off her hoodie and tosses it to the ground like she’s throwing down the gauntlet.
Challenge accepted.
I stride forward and stand between her legs. My hands coast up her bare thighs, my calloused palms scraping over her soft skin, and I can’t think of a single thing I want more than this. Daisy spread out before me on the kitchen island, ready and willing, like a banquet of all my favorite foods.
I’m going to take my time and savor every moment of it.
But first, I need to set some ground rules so there are no misunderstandings. “This would just be sex.” My fingers trace the hem of her tiny shorts. “No strings attached. That’s all I’m offering.”
“And what would make you think I’d want more?”
Because you’re Daisy Larsson and you deserve more.
Because you’re looking for love and I can’t deliver.
Because I’m not the man for you but I’m too selfish to walk away.
“Just don’t fall in love with me and no one will get hurt.”
“Wow. You have a really high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” She leans forward and cups the nape of my neck then brushes her lips over mine before sucking my bottom lip between hers and sinking her teeth into it.
I’m pretty sure she drew blood, the little vixen. I swipe my tongue over the coppery tang but I can hardly fault her for it.
Pain laced with pleasure is my forte too.
“If anyone is going to fall in love…” She places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth to ease the sting. “It’s you.”
“Then I guess we’re both safe.” But even as I say the words, I’m not entirely sure I believe them. Doesn’t matter. I’m going to take what I want anyway.
So I kiss her like our lives depend on it. It’s a desperate sort of kiss fueled by her soft moans and our dueling tongues.
Her nails scrape down my back and little shivers roll down my spine as my hands roam her body, sliding over her dips and curves and silky skin.
My hands slide into her hair, and I move it over her shoulder, my fingers deftly untying the strings holding up her halter top. I imagined doing this enough times during the day that I know exactly where the ties are fastened.
I slide the top up and she raises her arms to help me. When the halter top clears her body, I toss it aside and take in Daisy braless. I only caught a glimpse this morning but it was enough to get me hard.
Now, with her full breasts on display, rosy nipples hardened into peaks, she looks like a wet dream with her disheveled blonde hair falling around her shoulders and her cheeks tinged with pink.
She clamps her lush bottom lip between her teeth but doesn’t try to cover herself up.
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her shorts and slide them down her legs, leaving her in nothing but purple lace panties and combat boots.
So fucking sexy.
“Look at you. So fucking pretty.” I cup one of her breasts and rub my thumb over the nipple. She jerks in response and I dip my head, sucking the hardened peak into my mouth and tugging.
She moans and grabs the back of my head, her fingers digging into my scalp as her legs cinch around my waist.
I push her panties aside and slide my fingers through her slick folds.
“Beckett.” She moans my name and I’m getting high on the sound of my name spilling from her lips and the little sounds she makes. “God. I’ve dreamed about this for so long.”
“Must have been a wet dream. You’re drenched.” I gather the wetness on my fingers and paint her lips with it then slide my fingers into her mouth.
“Taste yourself.” Her eyelids are at half-mast and my dick jumps as she wraps her lips around my fingers and sucks, licking them clean. “Good girl.”
I grab the lace in both hands and rip the panties clean off her body. She gasps. “Hey! Those are La Perla. What are you doing?”
I toss the shredded scraps of lace over my shoulder. “I thought it was par for the course for you.”
“That never really happened,” she admits.
I knew she was lying. But if she was trying to get a rise out of me, mission accomplished.
I kiss the inside of her knee and lift her foot onto the counter, planting one combat boot flat and draping her other leg over my shoulder.
Then I slide one finger inside her and add another, watching her pussy taking my fingers and clenching around them as my fingers reach and curl until I hit a spot that makes her cry out.
“Oh god!” she screams, bucking off the counter.
I keep stroking with my fingers and then I dip my head and take the first taste of something I’ve denied myself for far too long.